


Ancient Shadow Unbound

by resonatingkitty



Series: Skyrim: Kijjan's Destiny [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 22:07:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonatingkitty/pseuds/resonatingkitty
Summary: Kijjan's attempt to cross the border into Skyrim does not go well and now she is a prisoner of the Imperial Legion in a cart with rebels, heading toward sure execution. But fate tends to get in the way, and the execution is stopped when the Bane of Kings arises.





	Ancient Shadow Unbound

The clopping of hooves on hard stone and the rough bounces of the wagon are the first things that register through the dull throbbing pain filled haze in Kijjan’s head as she regained consciousness. 

She was crossing through the Pale Pass into Skyrim when she was stopped by Imperial soldiers. They said they had orders to stop and search all travelers journeying from Cyrodiil. Kijjan handed over her small traveling pack, seeing as she had no choice if she wanted into Skyrim, and ignored the few comments some of the soldiers had about her race. She knew of the massive dislike of the Khajiit, had learned about it from her elders growing up in Elsweyr and became fastly accustomed to it during her travels. 

The soldier searching her pack came across the necklace she had received from an elderly wood elf in the Imperial City after helping her with a small task. Grinning triumphantly, the soldier held up the solid gold necklace, making an inquiry about how Kijjan had come across something so valuable. Another soldier piped up, saying it was probably stolen. 

Before Kijjan could even say otherwise, she found herself being placed under arrest from theft. Her anger momentarily got the better of her at the false accusation and when the nearest soldier reached for her, she bit them. She had just enough time to register the coppery taste of blood in her mouth and the pained shout from the soldier before her world went black. 

_‘Stupid Imperials.’_ Kijjan slowly blinked her eyes open, grimacing and grunting out in pain. She had to find out where she was, most important. Then she had to find some way to get out of this situation. Then she probably needed to- 

“Hey you, you’re finally awake.” A strange voice sounded from somewhere in front of her, slightly to her left, interrupting her train of thought. 

Alarmed, Kijjan snapped her head up. Across from her sat a Nord male, blond, a year or two older than herself perhaps, and wearing blue armor. Instinct took over momentarily at being entirely too close to this stranger. She shies away until her side bumps into something solid, ears flat against her head. She attempts to open her mouth to hiss out a warning only to find herself muzzled. Confused, she goes to yank the muzzle from her jaws, only to find her hands bound as well. 

“Whoa, easy there Khajiit. They slipped that muzzle on before they put you in here with us. They said something about not wanting you to take any more chunks out of their soldiers.” The strange man’s spoke again, his voice calm and gentle. 

Slowly Kijjan pushes back the panic that started to rise up and gets a hold of her instincts. She relaxes herself somewhat, still keeping herself pressed against whatever she was pressed against. She realizes that there is another Nord sitting beside the blond Nord, skinnier and dressed in rags. He was dirty and had brown hair. Ahead of their wagon was another wagon, loaded with people dressed in the same blue armor that the blond Nord had. 

_‘What has Kijjan gotten into?’_ Kijjan thought, testing the bindings on her wrists. If she could just get them lose enough for her claws to get at the rough leather. 

She is pulled from her thoughts when the solid object she’d slid into rumbled and shifted. She nearly jumped when she peered to her side was greeted by the sight of a large Nord dressed in a fur cloak. He was muscular with golden hair, braided down the side. He had a rag in his mouth, muzzled just like her. He was glaring icily down at her. Kijjan has seen that look before, during her brief stay in Cyrodiil. This man was not fond of Khajiit and if he had the ability to, he’d surely be hurling insults at her. She quickly slides away from him, as far as she could get in the limited space. 

“Damn you Stormcloaks,” the brown haired man cursed suddenly, “if the Imperials hadn’t been looking for you I would have stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell by now.” 

A thief. Kijjan heaved a sigh. Just her luck. “Hey hey you” She looked up to see the thief looking at her, obviously thinking her a thief as well “Me and you, we don’t belong here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Imperials want.” 

“We’re all brother and sisters in binds now, thief” the blond Nord replied coolly, lifting up his bound hands as a emphasis. The thief just snorted. 

“And what’s with him?” the thief nods toward the large Nord in the cloak. The Nord glared at the thief with that same icy look, “What’s his deal?”

“Watch your tongue horse thief! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!” the bond Nord warned. 

A look of terror washed over the thief’s face and Kijjan felt dread in the pit of her stomach. “Ulfric Stormcloak? The Jarl of Windhelm? B-But you’re the leader of the rebellion. If they have you… oh Gods where are they taking us?” 

The blond Nord looked solemn as he answered, “I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.” 

“No this can’t be happening! This isn’t happening!” the thief all but wailed. Everyone in the wagon flinched slightly, Kijjan flattening her ears against the pitch. 

“Shut up back there!” the Imperial soldier at the reigns of the wagon called irritably over his shoulder. 

Ignoring the soldier, the blond Nord nudged the disgruntled thief, “Hey, what village are you from horse thief?”

“Why do you care?” the thief bit back but there was no fire in his worse, just defeat. 

“A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.” the blond Nord murmured and the thief paused for a moment before muttering sadly. 

“Rorikstead. I’m from Rorikstead.” 

Kijjan didn’t understand Nordic customs, though she’d picked up a thing or two in her few years of traveling. She knew very well that the Imperial soldiers meant to execute the lot of them. If only she’d noticed those Imperials earlier, she’d have snuck around them. But now she was in this mess. _’Alkosh if you are listening, Kijjan could really use a miracle,’_ Kijjan prayed, feeling the weight of the Amulet that still hung around her neck. It seemed the Imperials didn’t take all of her things when they loaded her into the wagon. 

In Elsweyr, Alkosh was the First Cat, the strongest God. Many Khajiit worshipped him. To Kijjan, Alkosh was much more. Her mother and father had told her upon her coming of age, that the amulet she always wore, was an Amulet of Alkosh and had been given to her as a gift from the Mane herself. Her parents explained that the Mane had said that she had a great destiny laid out for her. Which is why they’d sent her to travel the lands, to find her destiny. 

_Is Kijjan’s destiny to die here today?’_ She asked herself silently, gaze fixed on the village that was rapidly approaching. 

“General Tullius sir, the headsman is waiting!” an Imperial standing on the wooden arch above the stone gates to the village called out when the company came closer. 

Kijjan tested her bonds again, trying to twist her hands enough so her unsheathed claws could catch the rope but the Imperials had made sure she wouldn’t be escaping. The wagons rolled into the village. Kijjan watched the General steer his horse from the front of the company and up to - Kijjan narrowed her eyes - the Thalmor? 

“Look at him,” the blond Nord, who had been watching too, said angrily, “General Tullius the Military Governor and it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this.” 

Kijjan grumbled in agreement. She held no love for the Thalmor, no Khajiit did. The wagons pulled up to a stone tower and stopped. 

“Why are we stopping?” the thief, who’d been muttering every God’s name for the past few minutes, asked in a panicked voice. 

“Why do you think? End of the line.” the blond Nord growled. 

They are ushered off the wagons and lined up. A woman and man with a list approached them. 

“Step forward when we call you,” the woman ordered in a commanding tone before nodding to the man with the list. 

“Empire loves their damn lists,” the blond Nord muttered under his breath. 

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm,” The Jarl stepped forward, head held high. 

The blond Nord, Ralof of Riverwood, was called next. Then some of the other Stormcloak soldiers. 

“Lokir of Rorikstead,” the thief started toward the woman and man before he took off running with a taunt. 

“Archers!” The woman commanded and Lokir was shot down in a hail of arrows. Which left only Kijjan standing. 

“You there,” the man with the list said, “step forward.”

Kijjan obeyed, coming to stand before the woman and the man. The man was still looking at his listen when he asked, “Who are you?”

Kijjan, still muzzled, gave a small growl. The man looked up, noticing the muzzle. He reached out to remove it when Tullius spoke, “I wouldn’t remove that. Damn cat is feral. Took a chunk from one of the men before being subdued. She’s being charged with treason for not only attempting to evade a checkpoint but also attacking a soldier of the Legion. Add her to the list, her name is not important.” 

The Captain grins, “Yes General Tullius.” 

The Imperial with the list at least looked somewhat sympathetic. “Long way from Elsweyr aren’t you Khajiit?” He questioned, scribbling on his list, “I don’t suppose you are with any of the caravans?” Kijjan shook her head. “You picked a bad time to come to Skyrim Khajiit. I’m sorry. We will make sure your remains are returned to Elsweyr.” 

“If you’re done conversing with prisoners Hadvar,” the Captain snapped, giving Kijjan a hard look, “Get with the others cat.” 

Kijjan walked the short distance to join the Stormcloaks. General Tullius and Ulfric Stormcloak stood face to face, glaring one another down. 

“Ulfric Stormcloak,” General Tullius spoke, his voice loud and authoritative, “Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn’t use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne.” 

Ulfric grunts a reply, looking smug. Kijjan had never heard of this Voice thing before but that would explain the gag if a man could murder with his words. 

“You started this war,” Tullius continued, if Ulfric’s smugness affected him he didn’t let it show, “You plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore peace.” 

Suddenly a roar sounds. It was distance but still nearly drowned out Tullius’ words. Everyone looked around. Kijjan’s ears swivel forward. Something in her very soul suddenly becoming very alert. Something was coming. Something very, very bad. 

“What was that?” Hadvar questioned, sounding slightly alarmed. 

“It’s nothing,” Tullius replied quickly looking at the Captain, “There is no use delaying this further. Carry on.” 

“Yes General!” the Captain saluted. She turned to a robed woman, priestess from the look of it, “Read them their last rites.” 

Kijjan ignored the words of the priestess as she fought to push down the growing anxiety. Her instincts were screaming at her, telling her that she needed to get away. 

“For the love of Talos, shut up already,” the sharp voice of one the Stormcloaks sounded behind her as he pushed his way past, scowl on his face, “Let’s get this over with. I don’t have all morning.” 

Kijjan watched as the Stormcloak is forced to his knees, head resting on the stone block. The Stormcloak, to his credit, doesn’t stop talking until the executioner’s axe ends his life, “My ancestors are smiling on me Imperials. Can you say the same?”

“As fearless in death as he was in life,” Ralof whispered under his breath, mournfully.

“Next the ca-!” the Captain started to call but is cut off by another roar, this one much louder. Whatever was making those noises was getting closer. 

A chill of fear crawled up Kijjan’s spine and it had nothing to do with the executioner’s block. Her instincts were screeching for her to flee far away. Death by arrows would be better than whatever made those sounds. 

“I said next prisoner!” The Captain snapped, pointing her finger at Kijjan, “You’re up cat.”

Kijjan stumbled toward the block. Terror held her and she lets out a growl when the Captain roughly pushed her to her knees. The headsman starts to lift his axe when Kijjan catches motion in her peripherals. 

A large black shape crested the mountain. A spike of pure terror shot through Kijjan the same instant the sentried called out frantically. 

“Dragon!” 

“It’s in the clouds!”

Tullius shouted. Soldiers drew their weapons. The dragon landed on the tower overlooking the execution with a ground shaking thud, sending a shower of loose stone falling to the ground. Time seemed to pause as the dragon raked a hungry gaze across the group, stopping when blood red eyes landed on Kijjan, who was frozen in place. 

The dragon appeared to grin, scaly lips pulling back to reveal large teeth, and it growled out words that seemingly only Kijjan could hear, though she did not understand, “Zu’u fod krii hi nu goraan gein. Hi wo los dovahkiin.” The dragon paused rumbling out a deep sound and shaking his head, “Ni. Hi dreh nu orin mindoraan. Bovul goraan gein!” The dragon open his mouth letting out a ground shaking roar, spreading his giant black wings, “Bovul ahrk lahney, _fah nu._ ” 

“Archers!” The Captain ordered and bows were raised.

The dragon roared to the skies and they immediately darken and fire starts to reign down, causing everyone to scatter. Kijjan watched unmoving as the dragon lifted himself into the air with a snarl of glee, immediately diving for archers that were out in the open. 

Fear keeps Kijjan paralyzed to the spot. She remained where she was until a sharp pressure on her arm brings her to her senses. She looked up to see Ralof. 

“Move it Khajiit!” Ralof yelled urgently, dragging her to her feet. She numbly let Ralof drag her across the open space and into another stone tower where the remaining Stormcloaks were gathered. 

Kijjan slumped against the wall when Ralof released her, attempting to reign in the full blown panic that’s coursing through her. 

“Jarl Ulfric could the legends be true?” Ralof asked, turning to face the Jarl. 

“Legends don’t burn down villages,” comes the deep voice of Ulfric Stormcloak, just as the building shakes and loose stone fall down onto the floor. The Stormcloaks duck for cover. The jarring helps Kijjan get herself under control. 

Ulfric walked to the center of the room when the stones stop falling. His voice fills the space, “We need to move now! Before that dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads.” 

“Here,” Ralof offered, drawing a dagger and cutting Kijjan’s bonds, freeing her. Quickly Kijjan rids herself of the muzzle. 

“Kijjan thanks you,” She muttered, rubbing her wrists. 

“Ralof!” Ulfric called from where the Stormcloaks had gathered at the door, “We’re leaving. Leave the damn cat to her fate.” 

“Yes, Jarl Ulfric!” Ralof said, before quickly turning back to press the hilt of the dagger into Kijjan’s hand, muttering, “There is an opening farther up the tower, you can get out that way. Go to Riverwood. My sister lives there. She will help you. Farwell.” 

Kijjan spared the Stormcloaks one last glance, baring her fangs as she caught Ulfric’s eye, before she rushed up the stairs. She takes merely a second to judge the distance before she jumped to the half burnt building next to the tower. 

The dragon is still flying overhead, his attention solely on the Imperial soldiers still attempting to fight. Words reach Kijjan’s ears, from the dragon itself, as it bellows them out. 

“Zu'u Alduin, zok sahrot do naan ko Lein. Fen du hin sille ko Sovngarde!” 

She spots a hole in the stone wall surrounding the town, likely blown out by the falling fireballs, and she wastes no time in darting to it and fleeing.

**Author's Note:**

> **Alduin dialogue:**
> 
> “Zu’u fod krii hi nu goraan gein. Hi wo los dovahkiin.” - **I should kill you now young one. You who are dragonborn.**
> 
> “Ni. Hi dreh nu orin mindoraan. Bovul goraan gein!” - **No. You do not even understand. Flee young one!**
> 
> Bovul ahrk lahney, _fah nu._ \- **Flee and live, for now**
> 
> “Zu'u Alduin, zok sahrot do naan ko Lein. Fen du hin sille ko Sovngarde!” - **I am Alduin, most might of any in Mundas. I will devour your souls in Sovngarde!"**


End file.
